


Morning Glory

by sajakputih



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Demon/Human Relationships, Flashbacks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24616654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sajakputih/pseuds/sajakputih
Summary: Let there be light in the darkness, let there be forgiveness for the damned. Let the demon embrace his sun god, just for a little longer.
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36
Collections: Banana Fish Reverse Big Bang





	Morning Glory

**Author's Note:**

> For Banana Fish Reverse Big Bang 2020  
> Artist: [ jollyfish_tacos ](https://www.instagram.com/jollyfish_tacos/)  
> Loosely inspired by Shiho Sugiura's _Kōori no Mamono no Monogatari_

Eiji, boy beloved by light, sleep peacefully beneath tender moonlight—for his silent worshipper kneels by his bedside, cradling a love larger than paradise. Hearken this wretched tragedy, lamented by heaven and hell: sacrilegious is the love of a god-adoring beast, but there is no love holier than a demon’s for his god. 

Enter: the demon Aslan Callenreese in the drunken stupor of a lover’s devotion. He pulls the slumbering sun-god Eiji’s blanket closer with a content, admiring smile. The lifting, crinkling corners of Aslan’s eyes sing of the same song within his heart: a psalm of love, unbounding majesties with every soaring verse, singing of sun-kissed devotion. A song that revels in a passion that trickles sweat from even the grimacing seraphs in their cold cloud palaces. 

The demon tucks his god’s hair behind his ear, carding through his locks with all the gentleness his evil-blooded form allows. Where sin should defile the damned beast’s soul, love entangles. He wants to kiss Eiji’s cheek, to greedily indulge in the fluttering, then all-consuming heat of his heart whenever Eiji is by his side.

“Ash?” 

A sudden recoil suspends the demon’s hand in the air. Surprise ceases its motion, until slowly, his fingertips curl ever so slightly outwards, as if a flower overcome by longing for the sun.

Twice, Aslan recalls, twice had Eiji asked for his name in the past. 

Rattling chains prelude the first inquiry.

In the cave where light descended to die, darkness conceived an indistinguishable union between towering, oppressive walls, curved sinisterly like the waxing maws of a hungry beast, and the sole prisoner of the cave—a demon chained to rot. Standing before the demon and grotesque darkness was a frail, foolish human that asked for the demon’s name. Barks of riotous, pained laughter bursted from the demon, his shoulders rising and falling in rhythm, aggravating unkempt hair to gush like fountains of blood. The cave spat back vicious echoes of the demon’s malice, thundering tenfold his mocking jeer.

The chains around the demon’s wrist begrudgingly trailed in tandem to the beast’s rising hand, so very slowly, as if his blood had hardened to lead. Then—corroding metal against sharp, jagged rocks whipped a thunderous screech, echoing gleefully like a madman’s howl. The demon Aslan Callenreese reminded this curious, foolish human that the hushed warnings of a man-eating cave were born viciously from his bloodied teeth and reddened eyes.

A familiar, trailing voice of Eiji wakes Ash from his restless reverie. “... Ash, bland taste buds, ridiculous, airheaded idiot—”

The demon bristles, embarrassment palpable in his widening eyes. “What did you just call me?”

“Huh, you responded to 'idiot'. Explains why you are sitting by the bed, instead of sleeping up here.” Grogginess accents Eiji’s voice as he pats the empty space by his side, though unfortunately his tendencies to tease appear to never rest. Though Aslan rolled his eyes, still he watches intently as Eiji’s eyes blink to and fro to smooth his sleepiness away, as if the demon’s lifelong duty is to be the sentinel of Eiji’s peaceful slumber. 

“Come here, Ash.”

What god extends his hands, and bed, for a demon? For Eiji, are a demon’s horns not an antithesis to a god’s gentleness? Does a demon have the right to stay by this sun god’s side?

Aslan can hear shuffling, and to his alarm, Eiji rises from his bed. 

“What are you doing—”

“Since you like sitting on the floor so much, I figured that I should sleep on the floor too.”

“Eiji, go back to sleep.”

“Not without you, Ash.”

Five syllables—just five, terrifying, blinding, rapturous syllables of devotion’s promise plunges a burning sword through the demon’s mind, befalling violent ruination upon the coherence of thoughts with its scorching baptism and gravity, mighty and titanic. Yet from the ruins of the old mind a new world emerges: the divine affirmation of Eiji’s love became the temple in which all constellations of thoughts and affections worship, so Aslan wonders in disbelief and veneration: Eiji, boy beloved by light, the boy who became light—does he know that he is a small apocalypse?

His god has always bestowed more grace than a demon deserves, though if he were sane, Aslan would leave to preserve Eiji’s happiness—righteousness seldom rises from the demonic path. Alas, the demon is a weak creature, an easy prey to desire, thus Aslan hesitantly climbs on the bed with Eiji inching to his side. A demon and a god lay together, shoulders pressing against each other. Aslan hopes that one day, his unworthy self will be forgiven for so brazenly groveling into his sun god’s presence.

Aslan’s eyes fixate onto the ceiling in an act of modesty, perhaps shyness, or maybe even unworthiness to face Eiji. Yet so naturally would the demon’s sight hopelessly crawl back to his god, devouring with a starving man’s desperation the graceful motion of moonlight, throned by the endless loom of darkness, weaving silks of silver with starlit threads, conceiving nightfall: the exquisite embroidery whose sole purpose is draping Eiji’s honeyed eyes with subtle majesties.

Tomorrow, how would sunlight speckle Eiji’s eyes? Come quickly, crown Eiji in resplendent glory.

Eiji’s bashful voice reminds Ash that he is staring. “Lend me your hand, Ash?”

Surprised, Ash quickly lays his palm on Eiji’s hand. His sun god slowly slides his fingers in between Aslan’s, interlocking their hands together, embracing his palm in a touch that melts, purifies, and reconstructs anew, and all to repeat when the second coming of gentle destruction descends as Eiji presses the demon’s palm onto his cheek. 

Eiji massages the back of Aslan’s hand, caressing the ridges of his fingers. “Your hands are still kind. I have always loved them...”

A demon was held prisoner for so long in the darkness that he has forgotten the shape of light. He was chained to rot by a foul, human bastard that left barking with laughter. “You’re a smart, pretty little thing, so I’m sure you’ve heard of that old wive’s tale,” the bastard jeered, “Where tears of sincerest wish will grant any of your desire. So start crying, little demon!” 

For some indefinite time, Aslan would bare his fangs, sinking into the flesh of the unfortunate visitors of this cave. He thought that the fear of death would wrought honesty from mankind—yet another day is spent in this man-eating cave, where light descended to die.

Every day, this pitiful, horned creature relearned the ceaseless gluttony of darkness. 

Thus the demon laughed at this human who asked for his name: his suffering rarely begets polite formalities, though misplaced and foolish. Any minute now, Aslan expected, the cacophony of fear, the frantic drums of running, but his fangs would be faster to sink into flesh. Yet all the demon heard was the sweeping of pebbles, hands dusting the rocky ground before something slumped onto it. The demon ceased his laughter when he realized that this human is sitting—calmly—before him. 

He could not see what the human looked like, but he knew the human was smiling. 

“I came here to die,” The human proclaimed as if he was death’s reaper and not the grain in which death’s scythe will reap. “My only request is painlessness.” 

In this man-eating cave where light descended to die, a human laughed in front of its vicious prisoner, seemingly amused by his own words. The carelessness of this human’s gaiety almost eluded Aslan from the stark morbidity of his words. “Ah, forget my request. Painlessness is quite impossible, is it not?”

The human, Aslan learned, rested upon death’s lap.

The human, Aslan realized, will not see the sunrise. 

Murmurings of the present interlocks itself with memories of the past. “You still think that my hands are kind?” 

With this, Eiji takes Aslan’s hand close to his lips. “Yes,” Eiji whispers, before planting light kisses on the knuckles of his hand, the iron-wrought scars around his wrist. “Always. I know now that you have never eaten a human. You threaten them just enough that they flee in terror, creating vile rumors to deter others away. I called you gentle because even in darkness and suffering, you do not wish to seize life.

“You only wished to live, Ash.”

A voice in the cold, endless darkness introduced himself as Eiji. Unconsciously, the demon began to acquaint himself with this name. He felt the rising lilt to ‘Eiji’ pleasant to say—it reminded Aslan of flight, of weightlessness. Intrigued by this strange, brave, dying human, Aslan slowly began to satiate his simmering curiosity. “Tell me why you are here,” a pause, “tell me about the world outside.”

When Eiji laughed, small and soft, the demon did not recall the jeers of the human who chained him. The creature craned his neck, leaned his body closer to this human who emanated long-forgotten warmth. Springtime blooms.

And so Eiji spoke: There were the ebb and flow of dawn to twilight. There were mountains that stood unfazed by the world. There was a family that never had anything in excess, except for overflowing happiness. There were laughters of a younger sister, the guiding hands of a mother and father. There were jubilant festivities for every changing season, conversations ringing bright under the burning sun, and a wish to see the sea before one’s death. Flower petals danced in the air, waltzing to the bells of his younger sister’s marriage. 

“Why the sea?” The demon asked.

“Just because,” the human had answered, “I have never been there.” 

“Tell me about marriage, about festivities.”

Life teemed from the human’s lips, swirling waves of joy too decadent to imagine. 

In his heart, the demon fondly grasped the gentleness in which the human wove his words. He held onto mirth, embraced by peace. It was like sleeping on a bed of flowers, blooming in the deepest circle of hell.

Soon there were the falling autumn leaves and the hurried descent of the sun. Soon, there are not enough blankets and wood to keep a fire going. 

Eiji’s voice grew quieter. The creature inadvertently leaned forward towards the voice, but the low clicks of chains warned him sternly. Happiness began to slip away from his fingers, and the ever-familiar tides of despair engulfed the demon.

There was a boy who took care of his ailing parents in isolation. Soon there were the funeral pyres of a mother and father. When the sky was empty, the land silence-devoured, rabid loneliness would carve flesh out from his skin, burrowing itself in the frail husk of bones. 

Soon, there was coughing, and bloodstains on tattered clothing once worn. 

When his sister could not afford another funeral, the boy folded his clothes. He cleaned the dilapidated house, minding the broken board on his parent’s corner.

Thus the boy took it upon himself to find a casket. 

He embarked to the cave where light arrived to die, perhaps to be buried in between the jaws of a man-eating beast. 

There were morning glories outside of this cave, the boy noted breathlessly, untamed and free and _living_ , and felt honored that his body would return to the sea of morning glories. 

Aslan heard the violent whispers of death behind Eiji—the boy who became light in the darkness.

“Back then, in that cave, I asked for your name.”

“And now, my name is yours to call, Ash. Over and over again. I would like that very much.”

A human lay lifeless in the cave where wretchedness festered, where light was mutilated, where death has wrongfully taken away a good man’s life, as good as a god.

“Eiji?” 

Jagged rocks impaled into the demon’s legs as he struggled to crawl to Eiji’s side. The furious rattles of chains, now blood-splattered, viciously reminded the beast of his place. “Eiji, Eiji, wake up. Didn’t you say you wanted to see the ocean before your death?” 

Aslan tried to rise, to fight against his chains, to remember how to burn like hellfire, to become fire and brimstone, how to gnash his teeth and scream, and pull, and pull, skin scraping against corroding metal, blood drenching his wrists, until the chains that have locked him in this cave where a beast has found a reason to live finally snapped, once and for all. 

In desperation, in fear, in torment Aslan crawled to Eiji, his breathing labored and hands bloodied, but he was kneeling by Eiji’s side, he was placing Eiji’s lifeless body in his arms. 

“Eiji,” Aslan cried hoarsely, “you cannot die in a place like this, not by a demon’s side.” 

Eiji, tell this beast, he begs of you—how do you swallow an ocean’s depth of tears? One after the other, a demon’s tear befell the lifeless god’s cheeks, burdened with the sincerest plea for the mercy of death, to give Eiji back to Aslan.

What to do with all this grief?

Suddenly, there was stirring in Aslan’s arms that his eyes shot upon, pushing the tears unshed away. 

Eiji’s eyes slowly opened, blinking up and down, as if waking up from a deep slumber. “Ash,” Eiji whispered, “...It is not so bad to die by your side, you know.”

“Eiji?”

“That is my name. What is yours?”

In Eiji’s voice, Aslan saw the radiant path of heaven that all prayers are dedicated to and decided: this human must be a god, for only a god could rekindle a dying beast’s will to live. Eiji’s inquiry went unnoticed as Aslan rested his head upon Eiji’s chest, chanting his name over and over again, like in prayer, a hymn that defied death and won—until he noticed the quietude in between Eiji’s ribs.

“You don’t have a heartbeat.” 

He could feel the shrug in Eiji’s shoulder. “I feel alive, and that is all that matters. I owe that to you.”

“Eiji, wait, I could fix this—”

“If I were to be given a second chance in life in exchange for my heartbeat, I would take it. It is a small exchange, and I have you to thank for it. Now, let us leave this cave behind. Never look back. Are you going with me?”

Aslan grasped onto Eiji’s outstretched palm. 

The earth yielded underneath Aslan’s bloodied feet. He could hear noises, sounds the caged beast had long forgotten, but slowly he started to remember. The chirping birds. The gust of wind. But nothing on earth could compare to the fire of dawn in Eiji’s eyes, burning the perversion of death into molten gold. Eiji stood with his chin held high, walked, and robed himself in the light like a sun god.

Aslan relearned the way dust dances like golden fireflies in the morning light. He prays that his ashes too will find its way back to Eiji, revolving around him for one last time.

“My name is Ash.” 

Aslan always likes the way Eiji says his new name, ‘Ash’. Aslan likes the way Eiji’s lips are reluctant to part with the lonely syllable, unwillingness lingering upon the tip of his tongue as it learns, hesitantly, how to let ‘Ash’ go. With the cradle of a saddened sigh ‘Ash’ floats into the midnight air, a ripple in the vast silence before sinking into nothingness.

The bloodiness of ‘Aslan’ does not bode well between Eiji’s lips. 

In the present, Ash emboldens himself to wrap his arms around Eiji, sighing his sun god’s name before he closes his eyes. He could feel Eiji’s hand upon his back, pulling him closer, murmuring words Ash could not discern but knew was gentle.

The demon sleeps peacefully, sun-caressed.  
  


There is a snickering Eiji—never a peaceful sign—and bread in Ash’ mouth.

Eiji launches into a barrage of teases: “Oh, finally conscious, huh?” Ash could only counter with some disgruntled, indistinctive noises as he munches on the bread. 

Such was their morning routine. Ash would hog the blankets, and Eiji would go and blend in amongst humans to buy breakfast for the both of them. Eiji still retains his humanoid form: no horns, no tail, no claws to expose his stillborn heart after his resurrection. 

Ash once asked if Eiji was bothered by the silence in his chest. “You are loud enough for the both of us,” Eiiji laughed, “I am still smiling, I am still happy. This is what makes me alive, not a beating heart.” 

“Do you long to be with humans?”

Eiji pauses, tucking a lock of hair behind his ears as he considers his answer. 

“I would lie if I said I do not miss my sister and my friends,” Whatever Eiji’s answer is, should they part ways, Ash will forever remember the sturdiness of Eiji’s hand, the grace in which his hair fell, the life his sun god as breathed into a wretched beast. “But I have bothered them in life, and my time in their midst has passed. I shall not bother them in death.”

Before Ash could say anything, Eiji muses, “You did give me a painless death. When I am with you, I have known nothing but joy.” Delicate embroideries of crow’s feet laced the edges of Eiji’s eyes, creasing into his skin in a way that reminded Ash of an orange sunset, made purple by the gentle folds of twilight. “I hope the feeling is mutual?”

“Yes,” Ash exhales, “Of course it is.” To the bearer of light, the savior of his suffering, mere happiness could not understand rapture: the feverish, apocalyptic mirth. 

“What do they say about it, again?” Eiji’s mockery is ceaseless—of course he is happy, making a mockery of a poor, helpless demon. Ash displays a preemptive pout in protest. “Ah yes, an idle mind will find itself occupied by the devil! So wake up earlier and be productive!”

“Eiji, I am a demon.”

Eiji shakes his head resolutely. “Not one that possesses the idle mind of a human.”

“You don’t know that. What if I’m bored?”  
  


“As if you have permission to be bored. Why not wash our clothes? Why not pack our belongings? Tsk, the demons of today are so useless! Back then, I heard demons would do any of your biddings!” 

Ash rolls his eyes and petulantly finishes his bread. With a final snicker, Eiji turns his back to resume whatever activity he was doing before teasing a poor demon. As retribution, Ash silently admires the robustness of Eiji’s back.

“You know,” Eiji suddenly begins, awaking Ash from his reverie. “You have more capacity for kindness that you know of, Ash.” 

A hush ripples through the air. 

Eiji continues. “That is good and precious. You have proven in that place that you would not mindlessly hurt anyone. You—and remember this well, Ash—you gave me a second life.

“You are kinder than you think. I hope you will think kindly of yourself.”  
  


A sleepless brook by the deep, dark forest stirred and swayed as two inhuman men walked the earth by its side. Water splashes like strums of a bard’s lyre, singing into the night with cheerful staccatos to accompany the men’s careless, echoing laughter. Under the waning moonlight, their reckless joy bounds their presence together, inseparable by the looming darkness. 

“Look at the stars, Ash!” Eiji points out brightly, the joyous opening act of a tale of mishaps involving his sister, some aghast screams, and the darkness, one that Ash was a spectator to before. Nonetheless, Ash nods and laughs as Eiji excitedly narrates the tale, providing snide comments of the other’s lack of brotherly instincts habitually, as if it was his first time listening to this tale. 

A confession: Ash wants to listen to Eiji’s stories again and again. He wants to listen to the stories embroidered with fondness and loving remembrance, richly gilded with images of the rising and falling leaves, the overflowing floods of light where reprieve is found underneath the canopies of wide-leaved trees, then come sundown for the grand, golden exhibition of a star-crowned night. He wants to listen to stories of festivities, of joy, of torment, of follies, that this storyteller, this sun-god, weaves with blackened threads of sorrow and the gilded threads of happiness that altogether conceives a world a demon wants to live in. 

Even though the world the god speaks of sustains the very cave that imprisoned Ash, the same soil imbued with his ire and suffering, if Eiji walks upon this earth, then Ash would even kiss the ground watered by his blood.

Eiji kicks a puddle of water to Ash, breaking the demon from his reverie. “Where are we going next, Ash?” The god asks with a smile, eyes expecting and questioning.

Ash kicks another puddle of water to Eiji who laughs as he dodges. “I heard that there’s an ailing couple at the next village. Not too severe, I could probably concoct medicine for them.” Whenever they arrive in a human town, Eiji will rent a room in the inn, his warm, gentle disposition renders any suspicion of him impossible. Meanwhile, Ash slips into the shadows of the alleyways, scouring for the hushed murmurings of illnesses. There, Ash learned of the humans that need medicine, and Eiji will befriend the ailing villagers to give them the medicine. Afterward, the two will disappear by nightfall.

Eiji’s smile blooms brighter at Ash’s promise. “That’s amazing! You know so much, Ash!”

But do humans deserve to see the sun? 

The demon remembers the furious stampede of horses, the snap of a whip against his horns. He remembers chains, iron against his skin, and bright, grinning eyes in the darkness as yellowed teeth bared their jeering breath. 

“Why are we doing this?”

“Doing what, Ash?”

Humans tore open his skin, in their gluttony and lust they carved and replaced his flesh with wrath.

“Helping humans. Why can’t we travel aimlessly like before?”

Such was their journey before: after they left the cave where morning glories bloomed, never looking back, Ash and Eiji wandered the earth aimlessly for some time. They mapped mountains, rivers, untrodden paths unknown to men. They were standing on top of the hill where windblown blossoms scattered into the column of smoke beyond, centered in the middle of a small village. A funeral pyre, Ash had guessed, and Eiji gazed upon the billowing smoke, frowning. 

The truth resounded in Ash’s mind: he hates the impermanence of happiness, and how Eiji would not always be happy. “What’s in your mind?”

A stray petal tucked itself in Eiji’s hair. Ash wanted to brush it away but halted himself. It is embarrassing how little control Ash has over his own self when it comes to Eiji, so he flexed and tucked his hand to a fist. 

Eiji sighed. “That should have been me,” he mumbled, “it feels...unfair that only I have a second chance in this world.”

‘You are a god born from the husk of mortality’, Ash wanted to reply, ‘Freedom, happiness, and the earth is yours to take. You gave mercy to a demon—what human, with their hatred and spite and greed, would do that?’

Before Ash could say anything, Eiji gazed at Ash with a resolution he has never seen before. How could he deny his god anything? “What do you think of helping anyone that we see in our journey, demon or human? You said you know some medicine, and I can deliver it to them. I still look like a human, while demons will know that I am not quite human. We could help them, Ash.”

Ash would raise a crusade in Eiji’s name, the demon will decimate nations and drive a sword of flames into the earth, he will become the ruination of the heavens if Eiji wants. What are a few concoctions of medicine in comparison, to make Eiji happy? Without much contention, Ash shrugged his shoulders and agreed. 

The Eiji of now has the same frown he had back then. “Do you not want to travel anymore, Ash?”

“I want to travel without purpose. You don’t need to help those humans, nor demons.”

“But I want to help them, Ash. Do you not want to?”

“I am helping them because you want to, that’s all. Demons, with their greed, egoism, pride, wrath, and ugliness, do not deserve your help. Humans, even more.”

“Ash,” Eiji has fully turned towards Ash, a drapery of moonlight shielding his silhouette. “I will not force you to do anything you do not want to. But why do you think that I am better than the other humans? I too, make mistakes and hurt others. I am—was—human, after all.”

“But what sins did you commit? How many humans have you helped? If you are sinful, Eiji, then this earth of ours is hell,” Ash counters, “and my existence in this world is explained thus.” 

Eiji bristles, his frown chiseled so deeply that Ash wants to halt this conversation. “Even still, that is not right—”

“The humans that chained me there did so because they no longer thought me amusing.”

Rattle the earth, hatred of a thousand years. Tear apart the passing wind with vicious jaws, swallow the sun into the belly of resentment. For Aslan is a demon, violence becomes him. 

“Why are you here, still? I am a demon, the descendent of the first evil that corrupts mankind, the evil that plagues their flesh. I am the son of the evilness that ails your parents and yourself. But you, you took my hand and said it was gentle. I do not deserve your mercy—”

“Stop.”

“Why do you want to walk by the side of a being so different from you?”

“Ash, I said stop.”

From the furious stampede of waterfalls, the seething rage of volcanoes, to the demon by the god’s side, silence befell the world in sinking heaviness.

“I do not understand your words, because frankly, they do not make sense.” Eji bluntly explains, “The humans that tortured you have met their retribution before death. I have no doubt about it. But my mistakes are not absolved just because I befriended you. You are you, Ash, and not,” Eiji waved his hand, searching for a word, “a ticket to heaven. I befriended you because you are Ash, not an escape from my mistakes.

“Also, what is this about not deserving my mercy? My friendship? I am _not_ a god, have never been a god, nor will I be one. I am no more, I am no less than you are. 

“You blame yourself for my misery, just because you were born a demon? You cannot help the form in which you are born. Why do you feel like you have to carry the mistakes of your predecessor? We now walk on this earth free—so let us walk in freedom thus.” 

Eiji pauses. Inhale, exhale. With time, the wind rises once again and the trees resume its gentle rustling, the brooks follow an oxbow’s path as they run freely, and the moon sighs in relief as it shines a kinder, subdued light. Within Eiji’s eyes, the demon once thought he witnessed heaven’s path. He thought of the separation between heaven and hell, of unworthiness, of overflowing light that would burn his bloodied hands. But in moonlight, in the presence of darkness, Ash finally understands what the radiant cradle of Eiji’s bottomless, unending, unyielding gaze holds.

It is not god’s pity. It is not god’s guilt.

“Your soul. It is your soul, Ash, that I thought was kind. It was your kind soul that gave you gentle hands, it was your soul that I fell in love with.” 

It is love.

In disbelief, Ash utters, “With how long I have been in that cave, fury my only sustenance, I don’t think I am worthy of a soul.”

“Ash,” Eiji softly calls, a nightingale’s tethering voice in the darkness where all is lost. “Would you hold my hand?”

One calloused finger, then another. Starting from Eiji’s palm, he lets the demon's hand bloom to engulf him. Eiji’s hands are warm, like the speckles of sunlight in midday gaiety, unlike the heat of violence that the demon is too familiar with.

Eiji guides Ash’s hand to his stillborn heart. The cacophony of silence reverberated through Ash’s hand. “What do you feel?” In reluctance, Ash turns his face away from Eiji. “Look at me. If I am without a soul, that means I cannot bring you happiness, I cannot know joy, I cannot know sadness. Do you think this is true, Ash?”

“No,” Ash replies unwaveringly, “the purest of souls belong to you, Eiji.”

“But my heart has ceased to beat. Some would call me monstrous.”

The demon’s eyes flares, voice raising to interject. “If any living being says that to you—”

“Yet you still believe that I have a soul. You may think that you are monstrous, but for me,” Eiji pushes Ash’s hand and his to rest against the demon’s chest, humming vibrantly with the pulse of life, “no other soul is as kind and gentle as yours, Ash. Once again I say, it was your soul that I fell in love with.”

The passing breeze almost obscures a quiet whisper, trembling like a dying leaf upon winter’s wind. “Do you not care that I am a demon, Eiji?” 

Eiji pulls Ash’s hand in a tighter embrace, while his other hand slowly rises to rest upon Ash’s cheek. Ash unconsciously leans onto Eiji’s hand, allowing his dearly beloved to push a stray lock behind his ears. 

Ah, so tears could be made from joy. 

“Rather than saying I do not care that you are a demon, the fact that you are one has made you to who you are now, to the soul I love now. You thought that only the path of evil has been laid for you. Ash, you have defied your fate—you walk in a path of light.” 

Ash revels, indulges in the softness of Eiji’s touch as his thumb wipes a tear away. He smiles, then laughs as he realizes that his tears of joy would not stop.

“How will I learn to listen to the beating of my soul?” Ash, the reborn soul, inquires.

Eiji’s lips rise to smile, crow’s feet lacing his eyes. “We could start by helping others. I remembered my sister’s love when I was dying, and I felt yours when you listened to my dying speech. Your gentle soul gave me a new life.

“Let others feel the kindness of your soul—and you too would believe that you have a soul, for only a person with the kindest soul will reach out to any hand that needs them. If you still do not wish to help humans, later on, I will understand. I will not force you, not ever. We will go back to how we used to be: just the two of us, in this great, big, world.”

“Alright.” The first ray of sunrise blesses Ash. “Let’s give it a try.”

  
  


“This medicine is for the old lady that lives by the apple tree. Eiji, listen carefully to my instructions. The medicine has to be taken in this precise order…”

“This one is for that one-horned demon. Tell him his taste in books is, frankly, terrible.”

“Ash, it is not nice to insult anyone’s taste!”

“And then this medicine is for that man down the street. I intentionally made it more bitter as a form of my disagreement with his ridiculous opinion in regards to…”

“Will you forgive my soul for its trespasses, for the darkness that has plagued it for so long?”

“Ash, there is no mercy I can bestow, for there is nothing to forgive. I love you as you are.”

In the distance, seagulls cry above slow ocean tides. Ash and the vast stretch of wildflowers beneath their feet craned to witness how Eiji smiles brighter, his windswept hair failing to obscure his joy. Shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, Ash and Eiji talked about everything and nothing. A lull descends into their conversation before Ash quietly asks, “Do you miss your sister?” 

The winds dimmed their roars to listen, the passing cloud paled the sun, and the echoes of the seagulls filled the pause in Eiji’s words. “She is my only family left, and I miss her so much. My biggest regret is not saying goodbye to her. I think that is one of my greatest mistakes.”

“You did what you thought was right in your situation.”

“You do not need to justify my wrongdoings, you know.” Eiji laughs, “I am who I am, my mistakes, my past, and my present have created me. It speaks for my soul, so it is a part of me.”

Ash halted his steps, though he found it impossible to release Eiji’s hand from his. With eyebrows furrowed, his horns a heavy reminder of a demon’s legacy, Ash questions, “Then if your soul is tarnished with sins, how could it be so pure? Only a deity, a god, could possibly have a heart like yours.”

“Because you accepted me as I am, Ash.” The rustling of wildflowers echoes throughout the world. “I once said that I am _not_ a god, and I am _not_ above nor below you. I have made mistakes, and I will make many more mistakes as long as I am alive. But it is precisely because you accepted my sins, my soul, that you thought that I am…enough, and perfect, as I am. This is embarrassing, putting it this way. I hope you understand what I mean.

“And I love you as you are, Ash. Your past, your secrets, they are all you, so I want to know you better.”

“Aslan.”

Aslan exhales as if he has been holding his breath for a very long, long time. Eiji holds his hand in a tighter embrace, as if welcoming him home after a long, long, journey.

“My name is Aslan.”

“Aslan,” Eiji echoes in radiant jubilance, “Remember that you are not two different people, so you do not need to hide one for the other. But it is nice to meet you, Aslan. I hope you will tell me how Aslan has made your soul.”

Freed, at long last. Aslan has finally returned home into the arms of his beloved.

“Eiji,” As Aslan’s words rise above the rushing wind, Eiji raises his hand to tuck his hair behind his ears as he turns to face Aslan. Not long, Eiji’s hand then finds its way back into Ash’s palm. “I thought you were born from sunlight. That’s what I thought when I first saw you, outside of that cave.”

Eiji laughs bashfully, and Aslan witnesses with glee how his cheeks reddened to his ears. “Well, that is funny, because I thought you are made of sunlight.”

With this, Eiji halts his steps, but still, he holds dearly onto Aslan’s hand. As always, Aslan watches, breathlessly and in love, and listens.

“Your heart nor your soul has never been without light. I do not think that neither heaven or earth would reject a soul as kind as yours, Ash, Aslan—” to this Eiji grins, widest with pride and adoration and certainty that unshakeable by any divine hand, with an effulgence that belongs only to the greatest love that cannot, not ever, be branded a tragedy, “—boy beloved by light.”

Aslan smiles as he reaches onto Eiji’s waist, slowly pulling him closer to plant a kiss upon his lover. He could feel Eiji’s smile, burning, divine, and sincere before they sink into each other’s embrace and warmth.

A love between two souls would never be sacrilegious—it is the holiest of love, larger than paradise.

So the two souls venture, hand in hand, into the breadth of the wildflowers and the sea beyond. An abandoned church to the side goes unnoticed by the pair, too busy indulging in the joys of love, living unabashedly in the great radiance of life. Inside, morning glories have made their kingdom amongst mossy church bells, never to be rung again. Yet if one were to step into the church, the distant laughter of two souls, rapturously in love, rings together in harmonious matrimony, true and holy.

Believe in the most immaculate, joyful, and holiest love of all: a love given from one soul to another. For glory be to one who has accepted another as they are, for they bestow a love so transformative and transcendental that the world becomes brighter, kinder, and beautiful.

To love is the greatest act of living, the most ardent proof of a living soul.

In this, two souls believe. Amen.

**Author's Note:**

> sadfasd thank u for reading,,, i hope you guys enjoyed it!! And thank you to [liamecstatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamecstatic) for helping me beta this fic!
> 
> Just a side note, this story is inspired by Shiho Sugiura's _Kōori no Mamono no Monogatari_ , per the artist's request. I took inspiration from the premise, where one of the characters was trapped in a cave and only the tears of sincerity could free them. 
> 
> feel free to talk to me about asheiji at [my twitter!!!](https://twitter.com/konism_) they are my *clenches fist* source of pain and happiness


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